


Not Half as Crazy

by celeste9



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Crack, Crossover, First Time, Ghosts, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:53:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29421882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: What was intended to be a fun night at a bar ends with a hot but crazy stranger not only rescuing Poe from what he insists is a ghost, but telling him that in his reality, Poe's whole world is just a story.He really should have stayed in the bar.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Dean Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	Not Half as Crazy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Huntress79](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress79/gifts).



The night was breezy as Poe left the bar, cool but not unpleasantly so, and the buzz of alcohol in his veins was making him feel warm and content. His friends had urged him to stay a little longer but the hour was late and Poe had a meeting with his commanding officer first thing in the morning, so he wasn’t eager to tempt fate.

He elected to walk back to base, enjoying the light from the stars and the relative quiet, only a few other strangers sharing the night. It wasn’t far anyway, and the air might clear his head from the lingering cloudiness of the alcohol.

Suddenly chilled, Poe folded his arms in front of his chest and rubbed his hands up and down his upper arms, trying to warm himself. His breath visibly puffed in front of his face. That was weird; he didn’t understand how the temperature could have dropped so quickly.

“Dude, run!”

Poe felt he could be excused for stopping where he was and looking around for the source of the voice telling him to run. He turned to see a blurred figure barreling towards him and then seconds later, his back impacted with the ground as the same figure collided with his chest and shoved him over. Poe’s breath whooshed out of his lungs as something heavy – probably the same someone who had knocked him down – sat on his chest, firing a weapon into the air.

It was way too loud and too close, and Poe winced. He tried to roll the person off of him and saw a flash of something out of the corner of his eye, like a figure in an old dress. The sound of the weapon rang out again and the figure vanished.

“What the hell?” Poe said, finally struggling free of whoever had been pressing him down.

“You’re welcome,” the guy said, because with a voice like that, it was surely a guy.

Poe sat upright, blinking at him. Guy, definitely. An incredibly handsome guy, around Poe’s age, with short brown hair and dressed in a worn leather jacket. Poe’s gaze flicked down over him and back up to his face. Okay, so maybe he wouldn’t mind being under this guy again.

The man frowned at him, cheeks coloring faintly, and stood, extending his hand to Poe. “You should get out of here. Dunno how long until the ghost reappears.”

“The ghost?” Poe repeated, letting the stranger pull him to his feet.

The stranger was frowning, half like he thought Poe might be slow and half like he was questioning whether he should have said anything at all. “You didn’t see anything?”

“I was preoccupied by you knocking me over and lying on me, and not in a fun way. I don’t know what I saw.”

He was blushing again. Cute. He had freckles across his nose, which was just distracting. His whole face was unfairly distracting. “Well, good. Great. Okay. Sorry for running into you like that.” With that, the guy started walking away.

What the hell. Come on. “That’s it?” Poe called after his retreating back.

The only response he got was a lifted hand; the man didn’t so much as turn back around.

“I should’ve stayed in the bar for another drink,” Poe muttered, and resumed his trek back to his quarters on base.

-

Everything was fine, until it wasn’t. Poe was dreaming he was on Hoth, frost clinging to his eyelashes like his dad had told him about, his fingers so numb he had almost lost feeling. He was burrowing into his coat but couldn’t seem to get warm, until he realized he wasn’t dreaming anymore but he was still near frozen. Why the kriff was it so cold in his room?

He yanked the blanket to his chin and idly wondered where the strange, low light in the corner of his room was coming from. Or, not light so much as something catching in the moonlight from outside his window. It seemed to loom closer as Poe’s breath puffed visibly in front of his face, which was about when his sleep-addled brain registered that it was a thing, a person, in his room, coming for him. He cursed and scrambled for his blaster, legs tangling in his sheets, just as someone came crashing in through his door, shooting.

There was an odd sound, like a wail, and the thing vanished. Poe aimed his finally retrieved blaster into the pretty face of the stranger from earlier that night, shadows disguising but not completely hiding him.

“What the fuck!” Poe said, as the stranger backed off, his own weapon held loosely in one upraised hand in an obvious ‘don’t shoot me, I’m not a threat’ attempt.

“Not so loud, unless you want to wake the whole base.”

“You kicked my door in and shot someone!”

“You were being attacked!”

“How the hell did you know that?”

“Kind of what I do.” The man shrugged disarmingly, and it almost worked. It at least made Poe lower his blaster. “Also, not a someone. Something. A ghost, specifically.”

“Yeah, you said that earlier. Shockingly, it doesn’t make any more sense now.” Poe collapsed back onto his mattress. He would honestly rather have the dream about Hoth. Maybe he had never actually woken up, and instead his brain had created this ridiculous scenario for him?

He didn’t wake up when he bit down on his tongue. Also, ow; he had maybe bit a little too hard.

“You’re lucky I’ve got my own space; whatever the hell that weapon is, it’s loud as shit.” Even so, Poe was faintly surprised the base security force hadn’t come crashing in.

“Yeah.” The man eyed his weapon, and then Poe’s. “So, you didn’t tell me earlier that I’d wandered into Star Wars. Had to figure that out myself.”

“I… what?”

The guy shook his head. “Never mind. I’m Dean, by the way.”

“Poe.”

“Huh.” Dean grinned faintly, stepping into a beam of moonlight that illuminated his features. “Yeah, that sounds right.”

Poe rolled to plant his feet on the floor and sit up. “You want to tell me who you are, Dean?”

“Not sure you’ll believe me.”

“Try me.”

With a very ‘have it your way’ expression, Dean said, “I’m a hunter, but I don’t hunt the usual thing. I hunt monsters, ghosts, supernatural stuff. That thing in your room? Was a ghost. I followed it here, and here is… well, it’s not my reality. I’m kind of stuck here, until my brother gets me out. Which he will. Hopefully soon.” He paused. “Though maybe not too soon. You know any Jedi? Or hot Twi’leks?”

Poe blinked, and blinked again. He had either had too many or too few drinks, definitely. “We have some psychiatric services on base, if you’re interested.”

Dean laughed. “I don’t need a shrink. But I would appreciate someplace to stay, because for whatever reason, this ghost seems to have latched onto you. I’d rather it didn’t kill you, so I’m gonna stick around a while.”

“So you almost gave me a concussion, broke my door in, and now you want to play my bodyguard?”

“I guess, yeah.”

Poe waved his blaster. “If whatever that was comes back, I’ll shoot it.”

“I like your gung-ho spirit but that’s not gonna do a damn thing.”

“But yours will?”

“Well, yeah, because mine’s filled with rock salt.”

“Uh huh.”

“Look, Poe, I get it. This sounds crazy, I look crazy, you don’t understand half the words coming out of my mouth. But I saved your life, right? So let me sit in the corner here and I’ll keep you alive. You won’t even notice me.”

Poe doubted that. “Are you going to fix my door?”

Grinning, Dean said, “Yeah, I’ll fix your door.”

“Let me see your blaster.”

“Blaster,” Dean repeated, his eyes all lit up. “It’s not a blaster, it’s a shotgun.”

“Let me see your shotgun, then.”

“What for?”

“Dean, if you want me to trust you, let me see your kriffing shotgun.”

Dean gave it to him. Poe turned the weapon over in his hands. It was like nothing he had ever seen before, almost primitive in its design. “So this kills ghosts? Leaving aside whether I believe you about the ghosts or not for now.”

“No. It temporarily gets rid of ghosts. Burning their remains, or the object they’re tied to, that kills ghosts.”

“So…”

“Like I said, I followed it here. Its remains are back in my reality. My brother’s on it.” Dean’s face wavered to an expression that clearly indicated ‘I hope’ before settling back on certainty.

“So you can’t actually protect me?”

Dean hesitated. “I can keep you safe until my brother kills it.”

“Hmm.” Honestly this explanation made less and less sense the more he heard of it. “You know I’m in the Navy? Got my own squadron and everything? So, one, I can keep myself safe, and two, I can get you in an awful lot of trouble if I want.”

“I’m pretty good at getting myself out of trouble. And no offense, but this ain’t like anything you’ve seen before. You need me.”

“I do, huh?”

“Yeah.” Dean smiled at him, and if Poe didn’t know any better, he’d think it was a smile aimed at getting someone to do something a bit more intimate than agreeing to get baby-sat. Maybe that was only Poe’s wishful thinking. “So can I stay the night?”

This was stupid. It was so stupid, and entirely ridiculous. “Okay,” Poe said. “But I reserve the right to change my mind.”

“No problem.” Dean leaned over to take his shotgun back and then turned in a semi-circle, observing the room. “That chair will do,” he said, and promptly made himself comfortable.

Poe eyed him, and then snuck a glance at his chrono. Damn. He really needed to sleep if he was going to be awake for his meeting. Dean’s presence and the… the “ghost” was really making it seem impossible, though. He stood up.

“Where are you going?” Dean immediately asked.

“To take a piss. That okay with you? You want to help?”

“Nah, I think you got this one.”

Poe took his time in the fresher, staring at himself in the mirror above the sink and splashing water on his face, wondering if he was the crazy one. He should kick Dean out, right now.

(But he was pretty sure that hadn’t been a person he’d seen in his room. He couldn’t explain what he’d seen.)

When he returned, Dean had half-fixed his door so at least it closed, which was something. “Sorry about that,” Dean said, nodding towards it, his shotgun in his lap where he sat in the corner. “Don’t generally stick around after the door kicking in.”

“Oh, so I’m not the first?”

Dean chuckled. “Definitely not.”

“And here I thought I was special.” Poe climbed back into bed, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. He kept his blaster at hand, not sure if he thought he would need it for an intruder or for Dean.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

“I’m trying to sleep, but sure. Go for it.” Poe doubted Dean would shut up if he said no.

“You know Han Solo? Princess Leia? Luke Skywalker?”

That was random. “A little. My parents fought with them.”

“God, that’s cool,” Dean said, excitement ringing in his tone. “Wait, your parents? So the Empire, it’s gone?”

“Since I was a kid barely out of diapers.”

“I’m in the future of Star Wars! Sam is gonna be so jealous. So what happened? You guys rebuilt the Republic? Did Leia stay with Han? Do they have kids? Does Luke teach Jedi kids? Does--”

“Dean.” Poe rolled onto his side so he could see Dean better, searching out his face in the darkness. “What’s Star Wars?”

The pause lingered a few seconds. “This is awkward. Uh. It’s a movie. Movies. Films?”

“Holofilms?”

“Kind of. Except in my reality. Your reality, it’s just… Our entertainment. We watch movies about Darth Vader and the Emperor and whatever.”

“Can we go back to the ghost thing? Because that was easier to believe.”

Dean shifted around in his chair. “Who were your parents?”

“Shara Bey and Kes Dameron.”

“Yeah, they weren’t in the movies. Sorry.”

Poe wondered if this would make more sense in daylight. Probably not, but he could hope. He purposefully rolled all the way over, showing his back to Dean, wanting him to get the hint.

Maybe he did, because he didn’t say anything more. Poe focused on his breathing, willing himself to fall asleep.

Then Dean said, “Hey, can you introduce me to Princess Leia?”

-

Poe only dozed a little, but he had no more intruders during the night, so that was a plus. Dean looked nearly as bleary-eyed as Poe did, still parked in his chair in the corner.

“Morning,” Dean said, voice gruff, and Poe ignored how much his body enjoyed the sound.

“Make yourself some caf, if you want,” Poe offered as he headed to the fresher.

Dean’s voice trailed behind him. “That sounds like caffeine so I’m hoping it tastes something like coffee. And also brews something like coffee.”

“Don’t destroy my kitchen,” Poe said, and found himself considering how much of Dean’s story might actually be true.

But seriously. Holos that were fictionalized versions of his history, his parents’ history, for people in some other universe to watch? It was so ridiculous that it almost circled back around to plausible. Why would Dean ever make up a story like that if he actually wanted Poe to trust him, unless it was true?

When he made it into the kitchen, his hair settling in damp waves as he tugged his uniform jacket on, he found Dean cleaning up a spill. Vaguely shame-faced, Dean said, “The machine’s a bit different to what I’m used to.”

“You don’t say.”

Dean straightened, his gaze flicking over Poe before he lifted a mug off the counter and handed it to him. “I figured it out eventually!”

“But not before making a mess.” Poe sipped hesitantly. Not horrible, but not good, either. Still, it was caf.

“I cleaned it up.”

“I have to get to work.”

Dean’s eyes moved over Poe again, considering. “You said you’re in the Navy? So you’re a pilot?”

“Guilty.”

“Please tell me you fly an X-wing.”

“Yep.”

“Awesome. I’m not, uh, not so good with flying, but X-wings are awesome.”

That was when BB-8 decided to make his morning appearance, chattering animatedly but with some suspicion cast in Dean’s direction. He rolled around Dean’s feet as Dean tried to turn with him, stumbling slightly.

“The hell? You have a droid!”

“You missed a lot while you were charging, buddy,” Poe said. “I’ll fill you in later. Beebee-Ate, this is Dean. Dean, meet Beebee.”

“I would’ve expected something more like Artoo-Deetoo,” Dean said, bending over a little to look at BB-8 more closely.

BB-8 chirped in indignation and Poe laughed. “You offended him. He says he’s a much more sophisticated model. Artoo is ancient.”

“My mistake.”

BB-8 chirped suspiciously but didn’t press the subject. Instead, he reminded Poe that he needed to make his appointment.

“You’re right, pal. Dean, I’ve gotta go. I can walk you off-base.”

“Actually, I think I’d better come with you. Ghosts can attack in daytime, too, you know.”

BB-8 swiveled his domed top towards Poe at the word ‘ghost’ and beeped alarmingly at the word ‘attack’. “Later,” Poe reminded him. “Really, Dean? You planning on baby-sitting me all day?”

“You’re growing on me. I’d rather you don’t die. Besides.” Dean gave him a smile clearly designed to charm a person’s pants off. “You’re my ticket to Princess Leia.”

“Senator Organa isn’t even on this planet, and I’m certainly not about to make introductions with a crazy person.”

“I thought you were leaning towards me not being crazy?”

“Maybe, but I’m not convinced.”

“We got time.” Dean gestured towards the door. “Lead the way.”

Poe exchanged a look with BB-8 and set his caf down. He had a feeling this was going to be a long day.

-

Poe arranged to get Dean a visitor’s pass to avoid the possibility of him getting kicked off the base while Poe was in his meeting. Though, if Dean started chasing ghosts, Poe doubted there was anything he’d be able to do to stop him from being carted away. They argued about the shotgun until Dean reluctantly admitted it wouldn’t be a good look for him to be carrying it around, so he ditched it for something smaller he had tucked in the waistband of his pants and some kind of metal rod he hid Force knew where.

Then they argued about how Dean absolutely could not sit in on Poe’s meeting, which was resolved when BB-8 agreed to entertain him. Dean was weirdly excited about that, in spite of clearly not understanding one bit of binary. It was highly relieving for Poe, though, as he knew he could count on his droid to keep Dean from getting into too much trouble.

The morning passed without incident, and Poe went from his commanding officer’s office to a planning session with his squadron all the way up until he found BB-8 and Dean for lunch. “Dude,” Dean said. “There are X-wings _everywhere._ ”

Poe was unable to resist the smile tugging at his mouth. “We are at a Naval base.”

“I’m in _Star Wars_!” Dean exclaimed.

BB-8’s beeped response was slightly weary, and Poe could well imagine how his morning had gone. “Let’s go off-base to eat,” Poe said. The rest of his day was free enough that it wouldn’t be a big deal; he just needed to run a few drills later that afternoon. “You can tell me about… where you’re from.”

Dean agreed easily enough and Poe took him to a diner he liked, where the food was cheap but good. They walked, and Dean kept jumping at the speeder traffic. He went wide-eyed at some of the strangest things, at the sight of a Mon Calamari coming out of a building, at a speeder swooping out of the air lanes above them, at the sound of a ship taking off from the spaceport. It all supported the idea that he really, really wasn’t from here. Not from another planet, but an entire galaxy. Universe? Reality?

Poe realized he might actually believe Dean’s story. All of it.

Inside the diner, Dean claimed not to understand half the menu but he ate eagerly enough what Poe ordered for him. Though Dean was more interested in asking his own questions, he responded to Poe’s prompting through mouthfuls of food.

“A demon killed my mom, so my dad got into hunting, looking for revenge. Got us into it, too, me and my brother Sam. Sam went to college, all set to be a fancy lawyer, but the demon that killed our mom killed his girlfriend so now we’re both on the road. Hunting.”

“So these things,” Poe said, “demons, and ghosts, and whatever. They’re all over?”

“My reality, anyway. Dunno about yours.”

“I’ve never heard of any.”

“Neither have most people in mine, until they get attacked by one.”

Poe sucked a bit of sauce from his slider off his finger before saying, “And my ghost, the one that was in my room. It was able to come from your galaxy to mine?”

“Seems that way.” Dean stole Poe’s last slider and took a bite. “Like I said, Sam’s looking into it. For all I know, the thing might already be dead.”

“You wouldn’t know?”

“No way to know, unless he ganks it while I can see it. We hadn’t IDed it yet when I followed it here so I don’t know how much time Sam will need.” Dean chewed and swallowed. “Enough about me. You know how many times Sam and I watched these movies? You’ve gotta give me something.”

“Like what?”

“Like… like… I don’t know! Did Luke and Leia ever bang?”

Poe nearly choked on his drink. “Did they what?”

Dean’s smile was sly and pointed. “Luke definitely had a thing for her. I just wondered, you know, since they didn’t know they were twins.”

“You are a horrifying person.” Poe left a handful of credits on the table and urged Dean to get up. “Time’s up. Back to base. No more questions.”

“I got plenty more,” Dean said, and continued to destroy Poe’s childhood for the entirety of their return trip.

-

He took Dean to the hangar, where he slightly redeemed himself by the measure of his awe at Poe’s pride and joy, his T-85. While Poe and BB-8 did some maintenance work, Dean babbled on about something called an Impala, which by his tone and the content of his words Poe thought must be a vehicle of some kind. He seemed to love it as much as Poe loved his ship, so maybe there was a tiny thing they had in common.

When it came time to run drills, Poe tried to get Dean to return to his quarters but he flatly refused. By way of compromise, Dean let him stay in the hangar. He couldn’t exactly come with, and as Poe pointed out, the ghost seemed unlikely to follow him out of atmosphere. So Dean waited, reassured that he’d be there when Poe returned, just in case.

It was sort of like having another parent, if that parent was nearly your age, wasn’t related to you, and you’d happily fuck them if given half a chance.

So… not very much like a parent, after all.

Up in space, with his comm feed to his squadron switched off, Poe explained to BB-8 everything that had happened. The droid was, unsurprisingly, irate about Poe being in danger, but after all the time they had spent together, Poe had gotten pretty good at calming him down. Not that he didn’t know it was a bit weird he even needed such a skill, but BB-8 wasn’t an ordinary astromech.

He ran his squadron through their drills efficiently and without incident. By now they all knew that Poe was entertaining some handsome stranger but he dodged their questions with vague half-truths and jokes, changing the subject. It worked for the moment, but wouldn’t forever.

He managed to head them off when they landed, and ushered Dean out of the hangar as swiftly as he could. Dean seemed to understand his intent, grinning and saying, “Want to keep me all to yourself, huh? I’ve gotta say, the orange is a better look than I expected.”

“More like I want to keep your crazy to myself,” Poe said.

They had dinner in Poe’s quarters and Poe set Dean up with a datapad so he could amuse himself with the HoloNet while Poe worked on some staff reports. The shotgun was back in Dean’s possession, which seemed to bolster his mood even more than the HoloNet. BB-8 was patrolling the space, like he planned on catching any intruding ghosts himself.

It was the chill that caught Poe’s attention. It had happened each previous encounter and Poe might be new to this, but he wasn’t an idiot. He looked to Dean, who was already alert, shotgun in hand, datapad abandoned, the tinny sound of the vid he’d been watching echoing in the silence.

Poe yelped when the ghost appeared in his face, shrieking. He lunged to the side as Dean fired his shotgun, and the ghost vanished in a puff.

“Poe,” Dean said, as BB-8 raced to him.

“I’m okay,” Poe said, feeling his heart thumping.

But the ghost reappeared, and that was new. Dean threw the metal rod to Poe and he caught it, swinging, driving the ghost away once more.

“It’s getting stronger,” Dean said, reloading, and wasn’t that just great?

Poe held the rod in front of him, circling the room, his back to Dean. He wasn’t sure exactly how it happened, but before he knew it, with the angry sound of the ghost’s cry ringing in his ears, he had been tossed across the room, his back slamming against the wall.

BB-8’s binary shriek was loud and anxious, combining with the blast from Dean’s shotgun. The ghost flickered and reappeared, Poe’s vision swimming, and then it… Poe blinked, watching as flames erupted around the figure of the ghost until it poofed into nothingness.

“Kriffing hell,” Poe said, letting himself slump down, and then Dean was crouched over him.

“Hey. Hey, Poe. You okay, man?” Dean’s hand was gentle to Poe’s cheek.

“You didn’t tell me it could do that,” Poe grumbled.

Dean chuckled and Poe let him guide him into a seated position. Poe reached out to pat BB-8’s side in reassurance.

When Dean hauled him to his feet, they ended up very close, Poe’s hands twisted into Dean’s shirt, Dean’s breath on his face. He was tall and broad and he had amazing green eyes and Poe was really, really into it. He wondered if Dean would smack him if he kissed him right now. The odds seemed to edge in Poe’s favor, given he had just been thrown into a wall. Dean probably wouldn’t want to hit him after that.

“Maybe you should lie down,” Dean suggested.

“You gonna come with me?”

Dean flushed an attractive shade of pink. “Uh. You’re great and all, but, um. I don’t usually do this with dudes.”

Well, that was just some repressive bantha shit if Poe had ever heard any. He’d caught the way Dean looked at him before he made himself look away, and like hell Dean hadn’t been flirting with him. “What was it you wanted me to show you last night? A hot Twi’lek? If you think about it, I’m actually an alien compared to you, if that’s your thing. Does alien trump ‘dude’?”

Dean’s laugh was this strange combination of choked, surprised, and amused. “You don’t have a concussion, do you?”

“Definitely not,” Poe assured him, and moved in slowly enough for a kiss that Dean had plenty of time to say no if he wanted to.

He didn’t say no.

-

Poe’s arm was outstretched over the empty half of his bed when he awoke in the morning, and he couldn’t honestly say he was surprised. He wondered how long Dean had slept there with him before sneaking out.

He showered and discovered Dean in the kitchen, looking freshly scrubbed. “I’ve got your caf thing down now,” he said proudly, handing Poe a mug. “Also I used your shampoo.”

“Sure,” Poe said absently, distracted by Dean’s lack of a shirt and by how tight his sweatpants were, like they were a size too small. “Are those mine?”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry. Do you mind?”

“After last night? You can take whatever the hell you want.”

Dean’s blush was adorable. Poe didn’t know exactly how a man like that could be adorable, but somehow he was. “Awesome.”

Poe made them eggs and they ate in comfortable silence. Poe was flicking through the news on his datapad when he glanced up to catch Dean… Huh. Well.

Dean’s face was kind of scrunched up and he was holding his arm straight out, palm forward. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Like you’re constipated?”

Dean glared at Poe across the table. “I’m trying to use the Force!”

Poe was fairly certain it didn’t work like that. “I don’t think it’s working. If you want seconds, you should really just ask instead of doing… that.”

After a second, Dean dropped his arm down, grumbling something about someone named Sam. Oh, right, his brother.

Poe cleared his throat. “So, Sam. He’ll be trying to get you back?”

Dean seemed grateful for the change in subject. “Yeah. He’ll need to get a portal open, back to my world.”

“You think he can?”

Dean’s smile lit up the whole room. “Sammy? He can do anything.”

-

As it turned out, Dean was right.

Poe took Dean to the bar he’d been at the night they met, thinking it just wouldn’t be right to send him home without letting him experience some of their night life, all manner of beings drinking too much and dancing badly and singing even worse. Besides, they didn’t know how long it would be until Sam found a way to Dean, or, Poe thought, if he even could.

He didn’t want to mention it, but Poe had a mission coming up, longer than just some ordinary patrolling, and he wasn’t sure what to do about Dean. He very obviously couldn’t come with, but Poe didn’t much like leaving him behind, either.

A problem to address after they had some fun, Poe decided. He ordered Dean something violently green and incredibly strong, and enjoyed the easy, loose slump of his shoulders a third of the way into the drink and the way their knees bumped under the table. He had the impression that Dean tended not to sleep with the same person twice, but he liked his chances anyway.

“Dean?”

Poe turned at the same time Dean did, faced with a giant of a man, his features boyish and his hair flopping into his face. Dean nearly fell out of his chair as he exclaimed, “Sammy!”

Sam, as Poe should have guessed, smiled uncertainly at him. “Hey, Dean.”

“How’d you find me?”

“Portal opened near here, same as yours, I’m guessing.” Sam pointed at the glass. “Saw you through the window. Lucky, huh?”

“Sam, we’re in Star Wars!”

Sam looked torn between confusion and complete dismay; he clearly hadn’t been here long enough to figure out where he was. Poe stood up and squeezed Sam’s shoulder. “He’s a little drunk, but not crazy,” Poe assured him. “I’m Poe. Welcome to my universe, which apparently you’ll find more familiar than expected.”

If anything, Sam only looked more confused, but as he glanced around the bar, understanding began to dawn on his face. “Okay, either this is incredibly good cosplay or we’re in a galaxy far, far away.”

Dean was beaming. “Awesome, right? I touched an X-wing!”

“Maybe we should go somewhere quieter,” Poe suggested, and Sam’s expression morphed into sincere, relieved gratitude.

-

The cool night air mostly cleared Dean’s buzz, so by the time they made it back to base, he was back to his relatively normal self. Between the two of them, they filled Sam in on everything that had happened. Sam was incredulous but it was difficult to ignore the evidence, so he came around fairly quickly to Dean’s sense of excitement about the whole thing.

“Do you know what I would do to stay here and study this?” he said. “This is amazing! An entirely different reality, somehow identical to what we’ve seen in movies. Incredible.”

“Surely you can stay at least a while?” Poe asked. Dean’s face was as imploring as Poe’s tone.

Sam shook his head, regret evident. “I can’t be sure the portal will stay open. We’re pushing it even now; we should leave.”

“This sucks,” Dean muttered. “I haven’t even seen a lightsaber!”

“You had days more than me,” Sam pointed out, but Dean was hardly appeased.

“You think we could ever come back?”

Though he hesitated, Sam’s answer was fairly confident. “I don’t think so. It was tied to the ghost; I used some of the magic from it to open the new portal. It won’t hold, and I doubt it can be reopened now that the ghost is completely destroyed.”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean said under his breath. He looked to Poe, oddly uncertain.

Poe kissed him once, sweet and soft, not failing to notice how shocked Sam looked. “Hey, just remember that you fucked an alien. That’s something, right?”

Dean’s ears were pinking but his laugh was pleased. “You think I’ve got some more movies to look forward to in my future? Since your galaxy’s still chugging away and all?”

“Doesn’t seem half as crazy as the past two days, so who knows?” Poe smiled at Dean, committing the lines of his face to memory. “Hope someone hot plays me.”

Yeah, Poe thought. Not even half as crazy.


End file.
